by Ron Root
“You wait here while I have a look.”
She crept toward where Sully claimed to have seen them, watching the ground the whole time, carefully avoiding twigs or dry leaves that might announce her presence.
She heard grunts coming from some bushes just ahead or her. Oddly, they had the rhythm of language. She froze. Her curiosity was piqued even more when she heard laughter. What in the gods’ names were these things? Dropping to her knees, she crept closer, and ever so slowly parted the branches barring her view.
A sandy, treeless space lay in front of her. At its center were three pig-like creatures gnawing on a deer carcass. Powerful looking, they were half again the size of a man. They gibbered in some strange tongue as they tore at their meat with huge pointed fangs.
Fearing she’d be spotted, she eased shut the branches and crept back to Sully, moving as quickly as stealth allowed. “Let’s get out of here!” she whispered.
They rushed back to the road and raced until weariness made further running impossible. Exhausted, they ducked under some bushes, out of the rain, resting as they caught their breath. They’d hardly done so when Rayna heard more of that frightening gibberish coming from the road. Placing her hand over Sully’s mouth, she pulled him close. They watched as a half dozen more of the beasts wandered past, heading toward Portsmouth. Had Sully and she not stopped when they did, they’d have run right into their midst.
As soon as the creatures were out of ear shot, she led Sully deeper into the woods, getting as far from the highway as possible.
Eventually they stumbled upon a well-camouflaged gulley with an overhanging cliff. It was growing dark and they needed rest. This looked as safe and dry as anything she’d seen. They hunkered down, clinging to one another for warmth. It was well into the night before sleep finally claimed her.
Raindrops spattering a nearby rock woke her. It took a moment to remember where she was, and why. She bolted upright. “Sully, wake up!”
He sat up, looking around. “Do more beasties be coming?”
“No, but it’s morning,” she said. “We’d best get someplace safe before they do find us.” Disoriented, she had no idea where they were. “Where are we? With all that running in the dark, I’m lost.”
The rain continued to pummel them as they renewed their trek. As disagreeable as the wetness was, it did mask their noise and blur their tracks.
Eventually they stumbled upon a creek bed. By then the rain had relented, but enough had fallen that a rivulet had formed. “I think I know where we be.” Sully said. “This be the creek bed what leads to Hagley’s practice place.”
“Are you sure? It doesn’t look familiar.”
He nodded.
“Good. I can’t think of a better place to be with these creatures around than keeping company with powerful sorcerers.”
Thus far the morning had passed free of beastly encounters. Taking the backwoods had been an excellent idea. Still, climbing over its slippery boulders was exhausting. They stopped to rest and consumed what remained of their provisions. Done, they resumed their trek.
The trickling water and ever-steepening canyon slowed their progress. Sully claimed they’d be able to see the university from the bluff up ahead. She decided they’d stop there for another rest—providing, of course, her aching legs didn’t give out on her first.
“Come on,” Sully encouraged, “we almost be there. I been here lots of times.”
Unsure of how much more climbing she could endure, she prayed the boy was right. A huge rock blocked her path. “Here, Lady,” Sully said, reaching out his hand. “Only one more rock and we be there.”
He hoisted her up and onto it. She sprawled to her back as Sully crawled to the bluff. One quick glance and he snapped his head around, wide-eyed. “Come see!”
His anxious look frightened her. Mustering her strength, she crept over and peered down the slope. She gasped, her heart thumping. Beasts like they’d encountered the night before filled the valley below, blocking the university’s entrance. “Gods! What now? How will we ever get inside?”
“By using Hagley’s secret way,” Sully said.
“You sure this is how to reach it?”
“Yep, this be Hagley’s gulley all right.”
“Then take us there.”
They hadn’t gone far when they heard something else walking the canyon behind them. “Hide,” she warned, tugging Sully into a small crevice between two boulders. They clung to one another, shaking, listening, afraid to even breathe. The sounds grew louder. Not knowing what headed their way became too much to bear. She dared a peek.
It was a doe and two fawns. Exhaling, she stood. “It’s just some deer.”
Hearing her, the animals bolted, disappearing in the foliage. Had she just driven the poor things into the grasp of those hideous monsters? She sighed. If so, there was little she could do about it. Heart still thudding, she did her best to calm herself.
Sully was staring at her. “Don’t be afraid, Lady, your protector be with you,” he said, drawing his cutlass.
She hugged him, laughing. “I know you are. Thank you.”
They hadn’t slipped much deeper into the small canyon, when Sully pointed. “There, that be it!” She chased after him as he hustled ahead, stopping next to a wall of ivy. “It be behind this.”
Rayna pushed the leaves aside. Sure enough, hidden behind the plant was Hagley’s gate. She pushed the foliage aside and tugged, hoping to lift it enough to roll under it the way Gresham and she had done it earlier, but it wouldn’t budge. “I need your help.” But even with Sully’s aid, it wouldn’t move. She sat back on her haunches. “It’s no use. It’s too heavy.”
“Wait! I seen Hagley use something to open it.” He foraged through some nearby ivy, and pulled out a broken portcullis bar. “He used this!”
She wedged one end under the gate, the other over a boulder, and pried. The gate lifted briefly, then fell back in place. “It’s heavy, I need your help.” Even with Sully’s help they fared no better. “It’s no use; we’re not strong enough.”
She thought she heard something. Was it more wildlife; monsters; or her imagination? She scanned the area. Although she saw nothing, she knew they were making an awful lot of noise. The longer they remained here, the more likely it was they’d be discovered.
“I be having an idea!” Sully scrambled up a boulder. “Why don’t I jump down on the bar. Maybe that will help lift it. If it comes up, slide a rock under it so it don’t be closing again.”
Could it work? She grabbed a foot-tall rock and knelt beside the gate. Sully leaped, landing on the bar like some caravan carnival flier. The gate lifted briefly, then fell again. It all happened too quickly to do any good.
She grabbed a second rock, pressed both against the gate, and leaned back, bracing her feet against the two stones. “Try it again.”
“All right.” He scaled the rock. “Ready?” He jumped.
The gate lifted. This time Rayna was ready. She shoved her feet forward, pushing both rocks under the gate, blocking it open.
Sully clapped. “It worked!”
The opening was small, but Sully had no problem crawling under it. But even after digging dirt away, Rayna barely fit—her clothing kept catching on the gate’s jagged tips. By twisting sideways, she was finally able to scoot underneath.
They were inside the arts university.
She lay there panting, staring out the gate. “Anything coming down that gully will see the gate’s open.” She looked at him. “Since you crawl under it so easily, why don’t you go out and cover the opening with brush? Stack boulders in front of it too.”
“Don’t need to,” he said, moving to the wall. A chain pulley hung from the ceiling. “I seen Hagley use this.”
He reefed on it, and the gate rose, the rusty metal screaking so loudly, Rayna was sure the whole countryside could hear it. She pushed the rocks out of the way. “Let it down!”
&nbs
p; With the gate closed, only specks of light filtered through the ivy. How would they see to find their way? Then she remembered the slata the guardian had given her. She touched her key to it, and blue light burst forth, lighting the tunnel. She brushed the mud and grime off her hands and stood. “Now all we have to do is find our way out of this tunnel.”
Passage
Gresham led the combined parties down a small ravine to his old childhood cave. They dismounted and walked their mounts inside. With a roof several cubits high, it was both tall and wide enough to house the lot of them, horses included.
The cave looked exactly as he remembered, right down to the torches stacked by its entrance and his old pitch barrel. He grabbed a torch and shoved it into the pitch barrel, rotated it in circles, soaking it with pitch, then lit it with his flint. A light globe would have been more effective, but with so many Chevaliers present, using the arts was out of the question. “With this many of us, we’ll need more torches.”
The corporal and two of the Inquisitor’s men undertook the task of finding more wood.
Gresham pointed to a small opening at the back of the cave. “That tunnel leads under the hillside. Its outlet is near the fortress. When I was a boy, I climbed a tree just outside the city wall and used this tunnel to sneak away unseen. One needs simply to take this passageway to its other side cover perhaps thirty paces of open space to gain the tree, climb it, and leap from its limb to the wall. There’s a stairway nearby the sentries use.
“Traversing the tunnel involves a lot of squeezing through small openings, so there’s no way we can bring the horses.” Quinn was standing beside his stallion. “Sorry Quinn, he’s a beautiful animal. Maybe if we leave the horses here in the cave, they won’t be found. There’s water and grazing just outside the cave.”
Quinn rubbed the animal’s nose. “What say you? Think you can survive out there?” He looked around the cave. “Do we have another choice, or is this our plan?”
Gresham knew the decision wasn’t his to make. “Uncle; Your Grace; what say you?”
Inquisitor Kolton answered first. “I doubt horses will be of much use inside a garrison. If the One God wills it, they’ll survive.”
“I’ll stay here with the horses,” Jarek said. “With my bad knees, I doubt I could climb a tree.”
Gresham thought back on his uncle’s confession about fearing tight places, doubting a sore knee was the true cause of his uncle’s reticence.
Goodricke placed an arm on Jarek’s shoulder. “I’m tall enough to help you up that tree, milord.”
“I’ll help too, Sir,” Hagley chimed in.
Gresham bit his cheeks. Sorry Uncle, your ploy has failed.
Caitlyn strolled over to Quinn’s stallion, looking concerned. Stroking his nose, she whispered something. Its ears perked up. She then wandered from horse to horse, repeating her ritual with each animal. Each responded similarly. Everyone, the Grand Inquisitor included, watched her strange antics. “The capall understand.” she announced, once she was done. “They will stay wary.”
The Inquisitor squinted. “What are you saying, young lady?”
Jarek stepped between Caitlyn and the Inquisitor. “Capall is the name for horses in her language. She’s very sensitive to animals and wishes them well is all.”
Caitlyn started to say something, but Goodricke interrupted. “Caitlyn, could you please check my horse, he may have taken a stone.”
She looked confused. “Certainly.”
As the men began unloading tack and gear from the horses, Goodricke whispered something to Caitlyn. Gresham hoped the big man was cautioning her of the Church’s suspicious attitude toward others’ use of the Gift.
His gaze wandered to Quinn, wondering why the man hadn’t had him arrested, or at least confronted him. Had Captain Dyson not passed on word of his having turned berserker? He and Quinn had much to discuss, but now wasn’t the time.
When all were ready, Gresham raised his torch. “This way, lady and gentlemen.”
The hike was shorter than he remembered, and in a short time he spotted light streaming through an opening. “That’s our egress. It’s only a few paces from there to the tree, but I suggest we wait until dark before risking open ground.”
That left time to kill before nighttime. The men paired off in twos and threes and found nooks in which to wait. Quinn was sitting by himself. Gresham joined him. “We should talk.”
Quinn stared at him, as usual, his emotions impossible to read. “Not now, Smithy.” He stood and walked away, leaving Gresham to wonder what had or had not been told, and to whom.
Later, after nightfall, Gresham crept back to the opening. It was little more than a hole in the ground. It was a snug fit as a kid; it would be an even tighter scrape for grown men. Pushing aside the dirt, he poked his head out, forced his shoulders through, and boosted himself to the surface. The small boulders shielding the hole were as he remembered them. A hole in the clouds was letting through enough moonlight to see the tree. Thankfully he saw no activity. Apparently, the prey were content to guard the gatehouse. He slipped back inside.
“There’s enough moonlight right now to see the way, and the area looks clear. We should go now before the clouds move back in. Since Quinn and I are most familiar with the grounds, we should lead the way. I know which tree to climb, so I’ll go first. Quinn can mark where I go and guide the rest of you to me. Goodricke, why don’t you and the Magus come next. Just bring him to the tree. Between the two of us, we can get him onto the wall. Anyone else needing help should go early, too. I’ll stay by the tree until everyone’s safely inside. Any questions or disagreements?”
When the Inquisitor didn’t challenge the plan, everyone else agreed. Gresham slipped out the hole. Quinn followed. “That oak behind the infirmary is the one I used. Send them there.”
Quinn scoured the area. “Got it.”
“One more thing,” Gresham added.
“What?”
“You’ll be last to cross; be careful.”
Quinn looked away. “Worry about your own job, Smithy. I’ll attend to mine.”
Keeping low, Gresham scurried to the oak. Even in darkness, it looked an easy climb. He waited. After a bit he heard loud whispers. “I think he said it’s this one, milord.”
It was Goodricke. “Yes, over here,” Gresham urged. Two shadowed forms emerged from the darkness. “I think it’ll be an easy climb, Sir. Would you like one of us to go up first?”
Jarek assessed the ascent. “I think I can get up by myself, it’s the hop to the wall that concerns me.”
Gresham pointed at Goodricke. “You go first then.”
Goodricke hoisted himself up a few limbs before offering a hand to Jarek. By the time they were halfway up the tree, Caitlyn arrived. Seeing the two men above, she scampered up to help.
One by one the others arrived, starting with Hagley. All was going well. Almost everyone had crossed over when Gresham heard shouts from inside the walls, followed by flashing lights and the sounds of men running. The garrison guards must have heard noise and thought it an enemy incursion. Goodricke’s angry cry silenced them. “Douse those lanterns, you fools!”
The lights went out, but the damage was done; Gresham heard growls off in the distance, drawing closer; and quickly. “Hurry!” he yelled. “Send the rest now. You too, Quinn.”
The stragglers made no effort at stealth, but their pounding feet weren’t the only ones Gresham heard; untold numbers of prey were heading their way. He drew his blade.
He heard Quinn’s yell. “That big oak.” Moments later Quinn and four churchmen arrived, the Inquisitor among them.
The Inquisitor pointed up the tree. “Climb!”
The three troopers managed to scramble from sight before the brutes arrived, but there wasn’t time for the Inquisitor, Quinn, and him to make it to safety.
A half dozen snarling beasts burst into view, closing fast. “Stand back, gentlemen, these
are mine,” the Inquisitor commanded. “Watch how a righteous god deals with devils and heathens.”
He jerked a necklace from within his robes. It held a scepter. He began a chant. Gripping the scepter, he extended his hand toward the oncoming creatures. “Caecitas!” The charging beasts tumbled to the ground, flopping about. “You are blind to God’s Way and all else,” he decried. “Be judged!” He lifted the scepter high. “Mortuus!” His second injunction dispatched the beasts. He stared wild-eyed at their twitching bodies, his feral grin making Gresham shudder. Finally, the Inquisitor pried his eyes from his victims. “Get up that tree before more arrive. I go last.”
All three were soon atop a crowded wall. A dozen or so archers were there, firing volley after volley at arriving prey. Gresham headed down to where a garrison Lieutenant stood bellowing orders. “When you’re done killing those bastards,” he said, “fire that tree. I want nothing else breaching these walls.”
Orders given; the Lieutenant gave the new arrivals a quick appraisal. His eyes widened when he realized the Grand Inquisitor was among them. “Your Grace,” he said, bowing. “Welcome back.” Then, without waiting for a response, he barked an order to Corporal Fisk. “Corporal, take these citizens to Marshal Booker’s office, now!”
Command given, his attentions returned to his men on the wall.
The Horde
Kagen walked the university’s battlements, peeking through the staggered merlons at the horde beyond. Perhaps a thousand paces beyond the wall, they were so numerous they filled the field. He had to squint to see through the driving rain. Sopped, he was delighted when he spotted Vardon stationed atop the next wall section.
A scowling Vardon caught sight of him, too. “What are you doing up here? It’s too dangerous.”
Kagen joined the Battle Mage and rested against the nearby turret. “And what am I to do, hide inside and let these children protect me?”